There was no way to get to the cabin; the roads and paths were blocked, no matter where we tried to walk. |
When we finally walked through our neighbor's yard, this is what we found. |
It was like a Nasredin Hoja story. |
I know this is Wilbraham, but then where is Wilbraham? |
The trees and the cabin bits embrace each other. |
The view from the cabin that was no longer the cabin. |
Where am I? |
The refrigerator that once housed lentil pilav in our Armenian kitchen. |
The end of the bunk bed and some of the bedding. |
The anguish and the pain of loss expressed in the tortuous twists of trees. |
The hill and our hearts. |
Our neighbors try to climb the mountain of cabin parts on top of Wilbraham Mountain. |
Look, we found the mirror, and it's not broken: the courageous Gazianos |
Tuxedo, anyone? |
The frame once held an oil painting of Monson, Massachusetts, but Michael couldn't find the painting. |
He did find the keys to the shed, though, with Nisha's baby diaper pin still attached. |
It's still the Charkoudians', says Marash Boy as he points to the sign that once hung above the front porch of our cabin in the woods. |
At the end of the day, we could see the faint promise of a rainbow in the darkness of the clouds. |
Unbelievable! Glad no one was there when this happened. I'm sure it feels like you lost one of your family and my heart is with you. I have many great memories of that home that will live on.
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear that. I never forgot the wonderful afternoon I spent there several years ago. Rebuild the cottage and plant new trees in place of the ones that came down!
ReplyDeleteThe tears were welling up as I scrolled down, and the rainbow pushed me over the edge.
ReplyDeleteThe mountain provided an opportunity for renewal and rebirth for so many. Now it's time for us to help the mountain in her rebirth.
random, violent destruction - it sickens, even though I did not know your cottage first hand. The rainbow is indeed a welcome sign of hope.
ReplyDeleteI can't believe it and I grieve for you and for it.
ReplyDeleteWould you consider a barn raising style event? I would come to hammer nails and rebuild with you.
I have so many happy motors of your mountain top.
I am high and dry in my camp but heaven knows what the waterfront (beach) will look like should the water ever recede,,
Dear Bethel,
ReplyDeleteMy name is Kimya, I live in Wilbraham and am a Journalism student at UMass Amherst.I just saw your post on a 22 News article, I'm so sorry about the damage the tornado caused to this historical cabin. In fact, I wanted to find a way to cover what has happened in Wilbraham, and when I came across your post I thought it would be a powerful story to share with the rest of the community in a video format.
Would it be possible to meet for a video interview about your family and the history of the cabin and share the video via the Wilbraham Public Access channel?
I hope you and your family are safe and well and hope to hear from you soon.
-Kimya
Cell phone: 413 657 4287
I am so, so sorry to hear about the devastation at Wilbraham. How sad I am to see the pictures on your blog. I can't believe it. My heart goes out to you and your family. I am so sad to see the devastation and to hear this terrible news. Although my memories in Wilbraham are only a small fraction of what yours are, I still enjoyed each time I was up there as a child and as a young adult. The many memories I had there with Katie, Alison, Nisha, Lorig, Deron, and Karoun will forever stay in my heart. I still remember when Katie and I shared the Baron Papazian room and bed and laughed all night with all of the stories you told us! I remember the bunk beds and spending time with our cousins. What wonderful memories of putting on skits and plays (directed by Lorig!) on the front porch during July 4th week! And of course, I can't forget the Bryan Adams song Lorig used to sing and we would all dance to! I can still smell and taste your cherry pie that you would bake in the kitchen. I also vividly remember your beloved cat Pud and her kittens in Wilbraham! We were so happy to be able to take one home! Most of all, Wilbraham was a family place full of love and memories. I know how much of a part of your lives the cottage was. I am so deeply sorry to hear of this devastation. Please know that Wilbraham will always be remembered as a place of joy and love.
ReplyDeleteUnbelievable. Thank God no one was hurt! I'm curious to know if the neighbors' homes were damaged. Tornadoes are strange; they seem almost fickle in what they choose to destroy.
ReplyDeleteI will miss the Wilbraham schoolhouse. But this isn't the end of an era; this is a beginning. Everything under the Sun turns to dust, but our memories and the spirit of those memories last forever. You have already immortalized the house with your written recollections.
I know I'll be misquoting this bit of poetry somehow, but I recall Master Wace as published in a travelogue of Hastings, the last lines reading:
...walls crumble, roses fade / nor long shall any name resound / beyond the grave unless 't be found / in some clerk's book, 'tis the pen/ gives immortality to men.
One thing so great about these old vaudevillians-turned-movie stars is that they made humor from really bleak situations. I look at the ruins of the ol' school house and I think Setting: Scene: Action! With Laurel and Hardy making a big mess out of rummage through the broken frame, slipping all over the place.
ReplyDeleteOn Wednesday I was standing at my kitchen window on Main Street Wilbraham, looking afar at the clouds; I saw a very active black cloud moving toward the farm. As I watched the cloud started to form a funnel and then touched the ground. Immediately debris started to collect and spew everywhere. I was shouting to God,"I see it, I get it, I'm ready, I'm ready" and as I was speaking, the funnel started to veer slightly south and went up Tinkham and toward Monson in a very wide path. The sound was very loud and the windows shook! All the screens on the house were torn by the force of the debris hitting them.
ReplyDelete